


Answers

by katopiyo



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Gen, M/M, Post-EW, Shenanigans, head gymnastics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:07:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25370617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katopiyo/pseuds/katopiyo
Summary: Duo and Quatre try to kill time on the shuttle back from the former pilots’ and the Preventers’ annual Christmas bash.
Relationships: Duo Maxwell & Quatre Raberba Winner, Duo Maxwell/Quatre Raberba Winner
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Answers

**Author's Note:**

> Another backdated upload. They're somewhere between their late teens and their twenties. A self-indulgent mess of puzzle solving and childish games. It's supposed to be 4×2.
> 
> Puzzle sources: CV015, UF008, CV005-UK, UF146, CV036.

Shuttle flights are dull - always have been, always will be. The lovely pressurized cabins are all the same shade of off-white splashed with the same cheap, neutrally colored fabric. This particular vessel used navy blue dotted with red and white and just a little bit of yellow and green. They didn't want it to be too reminiscent of the country once known as the US of A, which was now a part of the ESUN.

It was just after the yearly Christmas party that also commemorated the end of the Eve Wars - one of few events at which all the pilots would reunite every year. Of course, it all went swimmingly; Wufei was on duty as a Preventer, as were Sally and the other ladies, but it was a good time. It was a rare breather for Duo, and an even rarer one for Quatre.

But after the party ended, everything was dry and dark and just... not fun in the slightest. Saying goodbyes and exchanging sad hugs was probably the worst part. The second worst part was the shuttle ride back to the colonies. The godforsaken flights took what felt like eons, though, maybe as former Gundam pilots, Duo and Quatre were too used to things moving quickly. That's how it'd always been during the war.

A loud sigh cuts through the section as Duo hangs his head. Quatre glances over, up from his book, curious but cautious.

“What's wrong, Duo?” he asks.

“Read my mind, genius,” Duo grumbles, eliciting a glare from his companion, who opens his mouth to speak, only to quickly get cut off. “That's not how it works. I know, I know,” Duo relents. “My phone died, that's all.”

“You didn't bring anything else?” Quatre raises a brow. “Do you want one of the novels I brought?”

“Quat, you know I can't read worth a damn,” Duo rolls his eyes.

“Didn't you do any reading while you were undercover at school with Heero?”  
“I did enough to pass. Wasn't really a priority.”

“I suppose that's fair,” Quatre laughs a little sarcastically, watching Duo childishly press his face against the cold window glass.

“God, we're like, hardly even moving,” he groans.

“It's difficult to tell at a glance when there's nothing close enough to use as a reference,” Quatre remarks, “To compare speeds with, I mean.”

“Oh, look who's so smart. Mr. Quatre Winner, genius of the century.”  
“I thought you'd know at least that much from training for Operation Meteor.”

“Oh, I knew. I just wanna complain,” Duo admits. “And for the record, it doesn't take much to swing a beam scythe around and blow stuff up.”

“You're not giving yourself enough credit. Neither I nor the others could be anywhere near as stealthy as you were - as you still _are_ , actually. You about scared me half to death when you suddenly appeared behind me at the spaceport.”

“I told ya I was sorry, didn't I?”  
“Doesn't change the fact that you gave me a fright.”

“Wuss,” Duo scoffs.

Quatre sighs. “Call me what you will.”

Duo leans back in his seat, fiddling with the end of his braid. “Are we there yet?”

Quatre chuckles fondly. “It hasn't been that long since takeoff, Duo.”

“Time is a scam that the shuttle companies made up to charge us more for tickets,” Duo jokes. He grins a little when he glances back and catches Quatre trying desperately to maintain his composure.

“Okay, let's try this,” Quatre giggles, leaning down to grab a book from his carry-on bag. Duo catches the title once he pulls it out. The only words that run through his head are ‘oh no.’

“Oh God, Quat, not the puzzles again…” Duo shrinks back into his seat. The last time Quatre brought out the little compendium, Duo felt damn stupid and struggled for days, even after they were through. Trowa was the only other person present at their last brain picking session; he appreciated the mental exercise and didn't struggle nearly as much as Duo, but it was still what one may refer to as ‘a time’ - not particularly good or bad, but it sure was being had. At least Quatre got to enjoy himself, but...

“It's better than being bored, isn't it?” Quatre smiles. And, oh, Duo loved that smile but he really didn’t get on the shuttle to feel stupid today. He was gonna pick up stuff on L4 for the scrapyard, run a couple errands for the Sweepers, then scramble on home to L2. But the more he looked at Quatre’s little expectant grin, the less he could resist.

Duo sighs. “Go easy on me this time, would ya?”

“I'll do my best,” Quatre giggles, opening the book to skim.

“What has one entrance and three exits?” Quatre asks, still flipping through the pages.

“A sweater. That one's not from the book, is it?” Duo replies. Quatre nods. “Just thought I'd do a quick check.”

“How about we start with this one?” Quatre holds the book open to a page with a picture of a numberless clock and shows it to Duo. The clock's hour and minute hands are stopped directly atop one another in the bottom left quadrant of the face.

“The clock's been rotated an arbitrary amount, but it's still running, and each of the colored circles on its face represents an hour,” Quatre explains. “You don't need the face numbers to tell what time it is, and whether it's A.M. or P.M. doesn't matter. Tell me the time.”

“...Can I hang onto the book?”  
“The answers aren't in there, but sure.”  
“I wasn't gonna cheat!”

“I know, I know,” Quatre chuckles, handing over the book. Duo pulls out a pen and notepad, and Quatre re-opens the novel he’d been reading before, silently signalling Duo to let him know when he had another answer.

Duo sketches a clock face with no hour or minute hands and tries to figure out all of the times where the hands cross each other the way they do in the picture. He counts on his fingers and finds that there's at least eleven points of overlap within twelve hours.

As Duo lists a few potential times, he hears Quatre giggle beside him, then quickly clap his hand over his mouth. He couldn't say for sure that Quatre was laughing at him, but if he was, he was going to be mad.

“Something funny, Quat?” Duo glances over at him.

“Just something from the story,” Quatre says, still struggling to suppress his laughter, shoulders quivering slightly. “I'll try to keep it down.”

Idly, Duo looks over his time list and crudely drawn clock, then remembers the dive watch he has on his wrist.

As he unfastens the timepiece, he asks Quatre for a favor. “I'm gonna try something with my watch. Can I sync it back up with yours when I'm done?”

“Sure,” Quatre replies.

“Alright,” Duo mutters to himself as he slips off the band and winds the hands around. He crosses out his incorrect theoretical times, and replaces them with approximate new ones: 1:05, 2:10, 3:16, 4:21, 5:27...

“Huh...?” he scratches his head. There's too many options.

He pauses for a moment, then rotates the book around, trying to see a pattern in the colored circles that replaced the numbered hours when he notices the answer blank, followed by the phrase 'o'clock.'

“Ohhh my God,” Duo breathes. “It's noon? Twelve o'clock?” he asks, turning to Quatre. Quatre smiles and nods.

Duo trades Quatre the puzzle book for Quatre's watch. “Hit me with another one. I think I might have it down this time.”

“Oh, I have plenty,” Quatre smirks, flipping through the pages. “You still want easier ones?”

“At least ones that won't fry my brain completely,” Duo laughs bitterly. “I gotta make sure I'm still somewhat lucid after we land or who knows what'll happen.”

“Well, I'll be there for you if that doesn't work out.”  
“I can always count on you, Q.”  
“Nice rhyming.”  
“I know!”

Quatre chuckles. “Here's another one,” he begins, reading the riddle aloud: “A breeze blows in through a window and extinguishes two of ten candles that stand burning in a dining room. You come back later, and another one's gone out, so you shut the window. If the wind doesn't extinguish any more candles, how many'll you have left in the end?”

“...Lemme see?” Duo requests, and Quatre hands him the book to let him examine the picture that goes with the text.

Duo knits his brows. “I mean, there's seven that don't go out, right?” Quatre nods.

“That means you have seven left, right...?”  
“Try again.”

Duo scribbles ten candles onto his notepad and crosses out three of them, then idly spins his pen. Quatre raises a brow when he catches Duo adding more details to the candles, which Quatre assumes is in an attempt to keep his hands occupied while he thinks.

“Quat,” Duo calls. Quatre doesn't look up as he puts his watch back on. “Yes?” he answers.

“What do they mean when they ask how many are ‘left’?”  
“...Exactly what they said?”  
“Lit or just standing?”  
“Which do you think makes more sense?”

A smile crosses Quatre's face when he glances over and sees Duo's eyes widen in realization.

Duo turns to Quatre. “Is it three?”

“It's three,” Quatre confirms. Duo punches the air in celebration, then gives the book back to Quatre. “Give me your worst!”

“This one's from me. Or more precisely, it's from one of my sisters,” Quatre explains, flipping back to the page with the numberless clock, Duo leaning over his shoulder. “If this clock keeps perfect time, how many times will its hands pass over each other between midnight and noon?”

“Eleven times,” Duo replies almost instantly. “I counted before.”

Quatre shakes his head.

“Is it twelve, then? If you count how they started overlapped at midnight…”

Quatre shakes his head again.

Duo frowns. “Are the endpoints inclusive or exclusive?”

“The question asks how many times the hands ‘pass over,’” Quatre repeats.

“Exclusive. Ten, then,” Duo sighs.

“That was fast!”  
“Still didn't get it on the first try.”

Quatre pokes Duo on the nose. “You're doing just fine. And I much prefer this to sitting in silence, don't you?”

Duo freezes for a second before he gets back to his senses and leans back into his seat. “I - I guess, yeah.”

“This next one might seem harder,” Quatre says, “But don't overthink it.”

“Oh, this is gonna be one of those brain busters, isn't it?” Duo grimaces.

“Not really…?” Quatre plays innocent. “You don’t even need the picture in the book for it.”

“That means it’s gonna be worse than the others.”  
“Just think small.”  
“Don’t people usually say ‘think big’?”  
“Just trust me, okay?”

“Fine. Shoot,” Duo rests his head on his palm, listening intently.

“There’s a little old lady clapping her hands, trying to shoo birds off of a power line. Every time she claps, without fail, half of the birds fly away, but then one comes back. No matter how long she stands there clapping, the number of birds will always end up right back where it started. How many birds were originally on the wires?”

“...I don’t think I like this one.” 

Quatre tries not to laugh at the way his friend’s face scrunches up.

“Again, just think small.”  
“I don’t even know where to start here!”  
“It’s not hard, I promise! You don’t even need to calculate anything!”

Duo sinks down, closing his eyes as he pinches the bridge of his nose. Quatre stifles another laugh.

“You really like seeing me struggle, huh?” Duo glares at him.

“Do you want another hint?” Quatre offers apologetically. Duo hangs his head for the Nth time. “No... No.”

Quatre watches as Duo tries to reenact the birds flying away and coming back on his fingers for a good minute or two before he sighs, holding his head in his hands.

“I dunno, Quat,” he says, looking up at the blond again. “I really don’t know.”

“Take a guess?”  
“...Two.”  
“It’s two!”

Duo takes a deep breath and sighs. Whether it’s relief, irritation, both, or neither, he can’t really tell.

“Do you mind if I give you one more?” Quatre asks, peeking at the brunet’s face.

“...Fine,” he laughs weakly.

“You won’t need a picture for this one, either,” Quatre says. Duo stiffens.

“A certain type of mouse can give birth once a month, birthing twelve babies each time. The baby mice mature after two months, then can give birth, too,” Quatre reads aloud.

Duo raises a brow. “That sounds fake.”

  
“It could be. It’s just another puzzle in the book.”  
“...Is there a set gender ratio for every litter?”  
“It doesn’t say.”

Duo rolls his eyes. “Read the rest?”

“If you adopt one of these mice and bring it home the day after it’s born, how many mice will you have in ten months?” Quatre finishes, then glances over to get a look at his friend’s expression. Calling it confused would be an understatement.

“Why do you keep giving me math problems?” Duo whines.

“It’s a logic problem,” Quatre corrects.

“Either way, there isn’t enough information to solve it!”

“But there is?” Quatre feigns innocence yet again, a marginal, but still annoying amount of mischief in his laughter.

“Give me that!” Duo tries to grab the book out of Quatre's hands, fingers brushing against his as his arms fail to reach. Duo flinches when he realizes, but Quatre simply gives him the same old charming smile. But something seems marginally off.

“If this isn't doing it for you, how about we try a different type of puzzle?” Quatre suggests, tone just a touch darker.

Duo cocks a brow. “Like what?”

“Well,” Quatre brings down his arm and closes the book, “We could try something that's a little more personal. That way, you'll have more things to work from.”

“Personal how?”  
“You'll see.”

Duo frowns. “No I won't. Explain.”

“We'll have to guess things about each other,” Quatre complies.

“Like what? Crushes?”  
“If that's what you want.”

“Psh. Child's play,” Duo rolls his eyes. “You like Trowa, don't you?”

“I did,” Quatre admits, “And I still do as an important friend. But that doesn't count. It's outdated information.”

“Outdated...?” Duo blinks. “Wait, you mean you two didn't get together?”

Quatre shakes his head. “Not for very long, at least.”

“Damn... This is gonna be harder than I thought,” Duo crosses his arms.

“Don't overthink it,” Quatre says again, the three words becoming somewhat of a catchphrase for him today. “Personally, I don't think it's even that much of a secret at this point.”

“Still probably gonna overthink it, though,” Duo groans. “Phone-a-Friend?” he asks.

“Sure, but I haven't told anyone. Whoever you call, their guess is as good as yours,” Quatre gives a smug grin. “Also, did you forget that your phone is dead?”

“Damn it,” Duo hangs his head and pauses to think. “...Permission to ask questions?”

“You're already asking them,” Quatre laughs. “But sure, why not.”

“Name, rank, and serial number?”  
“I'm not required to tell you those if you're asking for someone's other than my own.”

Duo clicks his tongue.

“Are they someone we both know?”  
“Yes.”

A mischievous grin crosses Quatre's face. “It's my turn now.”

“Do you still like Heero or Hilde?”  
“Sure.”  
“Which do you like more?”  
“I like 'em both equally. But not in the way you're thinking.”  
“You did have your share of flings though, didn't you?”

“I mean, yeah,” Duo shrugs. “How many questions until it's my turn again?”

“I didn't count,” Quatre admits. “We'll just play it by ear.”

Duo hums, tapping a finger against the armrest of his seat, trying to come up with a useful question. He fails.

“Please, God, don't say you've got eyes for Little Miss Eyebrows. She literally stabbed you in the lung,” Duo gripes.

“Fortunately for you, Miss Catalonia and I are barely on acquaintance terms,” Quatre suppresses a laugh. “And though I understand the sentiment, it's rude to make fun of appearances.”

“My bad,” Duo apologizes. “So, uh... Guy, gal, or neither? Both?”

“He's a guy. I think I have yet to feel this way about anyone who isn't a guy, actually.”

Duo nods thoughtfully, hand to his chin.

“Is the guy pretty masculine? Buff and all that stuff?”  
“Strong, sure. The masculinity bit depends on who you ask.”  
“How's that?”  
“He's very unconventional.”

Quatre decides to ask the same.

“What about yours? Gender? General presentation?”  
He's also a dude. Dresses nice and clean.”  
“So your opposite, basically?”

“Rude,” Duo frowns. “But yeah, I guess you could say that. I think we're pretty similar otherwise, though.”

“Would you say he's conventional?”  
“On the surface? Sure. But he's pretty amazing underneath that normal-looking exterior.”

“What kinda guy is yours?” Duo asks, leaning an elbow on the armrest between the two of them, looking up at Quatre's eyes. Mostly curious, but maybe a little jealous. Quatre's lips curve into a small smile.

“I think he's very rough around the edges. He's got a filthy mouth if you don't stop him, but if you can get past that, he's very kind at heart. He cleans up quite nicely, but I'd say he's handsome no matter how much of a mess he might be.”

“You're head over heels, huh?”

“If that's how you'd like to describe it,” Quatre sighs wistfully. “...It's my turn. Same question.”

Duo rhythmically taps the armrest again, trying to find the right words. Quatre notices when Duo briefly looks him up and down, and he feels a little self conscious, but he's the one who threw the two of them into this game in the first place.

“I was gonna call him ‘tall, dark, and handsome,’ but the ‘dark’ part doesn't quite fit the bill,” Duo laughs half-heartedly, tone somewhere between joking and... something Quatre doesn't quite know what to call.

“The guy's got a smile about as bright as the sun and a personality to match. He's got a real cute laugh, too.”

Quatre's breath hitches softly when his eyes meet Duo's, filled with affection and longing.

“...Do I know him?” Quatre asks quietly.

“...Yeah,” Duo hesitates. “Yeah, you do.”

Duo falls quiet as he turns and leans back to look out the shuttle window. Earth's a lot farther away than it had been the last time he checked - their games were doing their job. Duo just hopes Quatre doesn't think too hard about the blood that's rushed to his cheeks, making him burn red. He isn't confident that his hair, though infamously messy, is hiding it well enough.

“Duo,” Quatre regains his friend's attention. “We haven't gotten to the guessing part.”

“Oh, yeah,” Duo realizes. “You wanna keep going, then?” He cringes slightly at the sound of his voice faltering.

“If you don't mind,” Quatre laughs sheepishly. “I have a proposition to make things a little more interesting.”

“And what would that be?” Duo glances back at him.

“What do you think about switching to ‘yes’ or ‘no’ questions?" Quatre asks. “It won't be much longer until we get to L4.”

Quatre hopes that Duo can't read the nervousness he's trying to suppress. He'd have stopped all of this far before it started if he were able to defeat his curiosity. Duo gulps.

“You're that desperate to know who I've got my eyes on, huh?” Duo teases with a shaky laugh.

“Yes, I am,” Quatre says plainly. “And you?”

Duo lets out a heavy sigh. “...Same here. You start.”

Quatre takes a deep breath. “Have you spent time with your crush recently?”

“Yeah. How about you?”  
“I have.”  
“Is he the same age as us?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Mine is, too.”

Duo scratches the back of his neck.

“Does yours work with you at WEI?”  
“No. He helps out sometimes, but he's not an employee.”

Quatre ponders for a moment.

“Does your crush work with you at the scrapyard?”  
“No. I dunno if he'd be too keen on it. The whole place is a huge mess.”  
“The mess is what makes it a scrapyard. If you ask me, it's sort of charming in a way.”

Quatre speaks in that gentle tone that makes Duo melt again. Duo feels like he's got a rock lodged in his windpipe.

“It's only gotten worse since the last time you visited,” he laughs sardonically, “Anyways, back to business.” Quatre nods.

“Does your crush have short hair?”  
“No. Does yours?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Does yours know how to fight? Y'said the guy was strong.”  
“Yes. He can fight as well as I can. In fact, maybe even better.”

“You are such a sap,” Duo grimaces. “Is he really that great?”

“Yes, he is,” Quatre replies. Duo instinctively averts his glance when Quatre looks directly at him.

“Sorry, I took two in a row. Your turn,” Duo says.

“Does your crush play any instruments?”  
“Yeah. Two that I know of.”  
“Are they the piano and violin?”  
“...Yeah.”

Quatre's eyes light up as an enormous, childish grin crosses his face. Duo swallows hard. “What?” he asks coyly.

“It's nothing!” Quatre hums. “Your turn.”

Duo runs his hand through his fringe as Quatre waits patiently.

“...Is your crush from the colonies?”  
“Yes.”

His face feels like it's on fire. He knows Quatre knows.

“Is he from a different cluster than you are?”  
“Yes again.”

The seatbelt light on the panel above them turns on with a ‘ding,’ and the shuttle pilot announces over the PA system that they'll be landing shortly. Duo clamps his mouth shut, gritting his teeth as he waits for Quatre's next question.

“Forgive me for this if I'm wrong,” Quatre laughs, a tiny bit nervous.

“...Just get it over with. I'm begging,” Duo mutters, head in his hands.

“Is it me?” Quatre asks sweetly.

“Yes, Quat, it's you,” Duo admits, cursing his inability to lie.

“Since when?”  
“You already knew, asshole. Take a guess.”  
“At least a year ago?”

“Yeah. Let's go with that,” Duo sighs.

“Okay,” Quatre giggles. “Try to guess mine before we land.”

“Was your crush at the Christmas party?” Duo asks, voice heavy with frustration.

“He was.”

“God! I can't take this anymore, Quat,” Duo wheezes, looking up at him through parted fingers.

“Don't overthink it.”

“Oh, shut up,” Duo groans. “I hate this so much.”

“You already know, don't you?” Quatre smiles patiently. Duo opens his mouth to speak, but is quickly interrupted by the announcement that they'd be arriving at the spaceport at any moment.

Duo's voice is tiny and barely audible when he finally asks.

“Is it me?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny,” Quatre laughs again, undoing his seat's buckle and rising to grab his other bag from the overhead compartment before he starts toward the exit.

“Hey! That's not fair!” Duo protests, following after him, duffle bag slung over his shoulder.

“It's not!” Quatre turns to Duo with a grin as he steps out the shuttle door. “But would you like to discuss it over dinner?”


End file.
